"Come on, mate, look on the bright side," Jack insisted. "Now, we know exactly where the prison is, which will save us the trouble later on of looking for it." He tried to accentuate the encouragement with a wide grin.
Norrington sat idly against the back wall of the cell, glaring at Jack, doubting very much that there was any such "bright side" to having been arrested by Beckett's soldiers.
The East India Trading Company soldiers had brought the intruders to a clearing, in which sat a fortress that looked very out-of-place in the untamed jungle. As they were brought inside, Norrington noted that the fort's defenses were likely impenetrable, and that they never would have made it inside without being shot. The three prisoners had been brought directly to the fort's prison, which reminded Norrington very much of his own prison back in Port Royal, and locked together in a small cell.
Jack had spent the first part of their incarceration staring through the bars at all the other cells in the prison, and then had given up on that and had resorted to pacing back in forth in front of the locked door, talking to himself. Norrington did his best to ignore the pirate, knowing that his dwelling on Jack's involvement in their situation would likely lead to the pirate's murder. Gillette woke up with a pounding headache, but offered no complaint except a muttered curse. He sat in a corner of the cell, cradling his head, and was either oblivious to or ignoring the pirate's antics.
Jack paced across the cell again. He acted as if he had everything under control, but it was clear his mind was racing as he tried to find a solution to their current predicament. He paused and faced Norrington again. "Look, mate, you're just going to have to trust me."
"Trust you," Norrington repeated darkly. "After you've gotten us thrown in prison."
"Just returning the favor," Jack commented. "And if you'll remember, I do have a bit of experience in reversing this very sort of unfortunate situation."
"Meaning that you got lucky and Will Turner freed you."
Jack never missed a beat. "And I have not dismissed the possibility of that very thing happening again," he said, holding up a finger to stop the Commodore's coming protest. "Unlikely, perhaps," he conceded, "but not impossible. After all, who am I?"
"You're a daft pirate with no regard for the needs of others."
Now Jack frowned. "Well..." he faltered. "Who asked you?" He turned away and went back to the cell door to look around. His gaze rested on a ragged man in a cell across the way who was watching the new arrivals with apparent fascination. "Oi, you there!" Jack called, startling the man to rapt attention. "How long've you been in here?"
"'Bout two weeks, sir," the man replied, sounding a bit nervous at having been so directly addressed. "Seems like longer."
"I don't suppose you have any recollection of a fellow by the name of Gibbs who was likely captured near, around, or about the same time as your unfortunate self, eh?"
The man frowned slightly, though it was unclear whether he frowned out of confusion at the pirate's convoluted speech or out of an effort to remember the person of Gibbs.
"Stands near this high," Jack offered, gesturing vaguely to approximate Gibbs' height. "Oldish gent... scruffy, bearded fellow... likes his rum... superstitious fool of a sailor..."
"I remember 'im," the man said, brightening suddenly. "Used to have the cell right next to mine, as a matter of fact." He nodded towards the cell adjoining his own, which was empty.
"Well, where is he now?" Jack demanded.
The man shrugged. "They don't tell us nothin'. He'd been here a while, though, I think longer than most are before they're taken to the gallows."
Jack stared hard at the other prisoner, and Norrington thought he saw the pirate pale slightly, though it was difficult to be sure in the dismal lighting.
"The gallows, you say?" Jack asked. He tried to sound nonchalant, but his voice was strained.
The man nodded. "I been due to meet 'em for days now. Not sure what's takin' so long. Can't say I'm eager to go, but there can't be much what's worse than sittin' in this cell day after day."
"Thank you, most kindly, for your generous divulging of pertinent information," Jack said mechanically. He sank into a sitting position, his face bearing a haunted expression.
"You look troubled," Norrington commented indifferently.
"Am not," Jack argued. "Just hadn't thought of that possibility, is all."
Norrington looked over at the other prisoner. "I don't suppose you know of any other place within this fortress where prisoners are held."
"No, sir," the man answered. "Like I said, they don't tell us nothin'."
"We have to get out of here," Jack said, half to himself. He jumped wildly to his feet and began shaking at the bars. Norrington watched in bemusement as Jack made a persistent, yet futile, attempt at rattling the door's hinges loose.
"Would you stop that?" Gillette finally snapped, glaring at the pirate's back.
Jack stopped and spun around to return the glare.
"You're hurting my head. I feel miserable enough without your incessant racket."
Jack gave the bars one more shake for good measure, then plopped back down on the ground, crossing his arms in frustration. "We're locked in here, gents," he surmised.
"Fancy a prison being used for its intended purpose," Gillette muttered, resting his throbbing head back against the wall.
"Do you have anything helpful to offer?" Jack shot back. "If not, as I gather is the most likely case, do everyone within earshot a favor and, kindly, shut it, savvy?"
"I don't see you making any meaningful progress," Norrington pointed out, partially because it was true, and partially to distract the pirate from harassing Gillette.
"And what are you doing to help the situation?"
"This is your fiasco. You're the one who's dragged us into it."
"There are so many reasonable arguments one could make against that particular statement, however I shall choose only one." Jack paused, apparently for dramatic effect. "We're locked in a prison cell, in case you hadn't noticed, and there's not much I can do about it without any sort of advantageous assets close at hand."
"Well, you're the self-proclaimed infamous Captain Jack Sparrow, aren't you?" Norrington taunted, hinting at a sarcastic smile. "These things ought to be your area of expertise."
"And what are you, an expensive painting? Thought you had to earn the wig."
Norrington rolled his eyes and pulled a small dagger out of its sheath at the back of his belt. "Move," he told Jack.
The pirate didn't have to be told twice, and scurried away from the door. Norrington knelt in front of the door's latch, wedged the knife into the lock, and set to work.
Jack watched with interest. "You've done that before, mate?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No. So you'll have to excuse me if I demand the complete silence necessary to concentrate on the task."
"Apologies," Jack said, putting his palms together and inclining his head slightly. "Proceed. Take your time. But hurry."
Oh no, are they too late...? Guess you'll just have to tune in next time to find out. ;) Leave a review and let me know what you think!